Growth and Maturity
by heartofShou
Summary: Oneshot.  Hamlet steams over a forgotten childhood promise, but it might not be as forgotten as he thinks.


DISCLAIMER: I do not own _Hamlet_, its characters, its plot, etc.

NOTE: Inspired by a filler sketch by Natsuki Takaya in volume 14 of _Fruits Basket._ (Refer to page 103 of Tokyo Pop edition.)

_**Growth and Maturity**_

"Got myself a notion,

And one I know that you'll understand,

To set the world in motion

By reaching out for each other's hand.

Maybe we'll discover,

What we should've know all along.

One way or another,

Together's where we both belong."

- A Goofy Movie, **Eye to Eye**

Ophelia watched in amused confusion as Hamlet strode through the castle hallways looking as temperamental as if he had a storm cloud hovering over his head. There was confusion because she wasn't sure what exactly made Hamlet storm through the hallways. Amusement because the young prince was so adorable with his shadowed face and childish pout. (Not that she would ever point it out to Hamlet- goodness no- but as someone that had known Hamlet all her life, she could recognize a childish pout when she saw one.)

Her musings were interrupted when Horatio came hurrying after Hamlet. The sight of the prince's best friend made her feel like laughing aloud. Poor Horatio looked quite bedraggled and though his eyes stared exasperated at his friend's back, Ophelia could see that his body was starting to drag behind, finally starting to admit that it couldn't up this pace forever. Finally, too tired, he came to stop, grudgingly staying on his feet.

"Hello there, Horatio," greeted Ophelia, wanting to give him a pleasant diversion. One would think by now that Hamlet would have learned to treat his friends better. Well, once a prince, always a prince. While not an unkind man, Hamlet had grown slightly spoiled from his friends fondly giving in most of the time.

"Good afternoon, fair Ophelia," Horatio replied courteously. His innocent sincerity sparked even more sympathy within the young maid.

"Won't you come sit inside?" she gestured to the open door behind her. The poor man really could use a few minutes sitting down. And if she managed to attain some more information about Hamlet, then all the better.

The faintest blush traced Horatio's cheeks and he looked almost guiltily towards the open door. "You are very kind, Ophelia," he assured. Then he paused awkwardly, "But… it wouldn't really be proper… with there just being two of us and all.."

Oh, Horatio. Always the gentleman. Her heart warmed even more.

"It's Laertes's room," she explained gently. "He won't really mind, I'm sure." She walked out of the doorway and stood to the side, clearing it entirely. "And if it makes you feel any better, I'll stand outside the whole time until he comes. Surely that can't be considered improper?"

Horatio gave it a quick thought- probably running it through that mountain of textbook knowledge he constantly carried around- and gave a hesitant nod. He gave the polite objections of course- "Are you sure, my lady?" "Surely you would be more comfortable-" "I don't need it, honestly…"- and Ophelia quickly countered them with her own polite statements- "Yes, I'm sure." "You are very kind, but really, I _insist_…" "No, the hallway does not bother me…"- until Horatio was comfortably settled. Ophelia was quit sure that her tall, dark, and silent brother wouldn't mind. While most of his attention lay wholly with someone else- Ophelia couldn't stifle a tiny cough- she knew he had a high respect for Horatio and her brother was not the kind to refuse someone in need.

"Oh, Laertes," Horatio sighed fondly, glancing around the room in polite interest. "You know, I can't help but get this nagging feeling that he's somewhat to blame for this."

"This" didn't need to be clarified. The image of Hamlet grumbling down the hall echoed still in both their minds. Ophelia stifled a giggle. Horatio just sighed.

"Oh?" she called back, her eyes trained on the look-out for her brother. It was somewhat ironic because she usually had to play look-out protecting Horatio and Laertes from whatever trouble Hamlet dragged them into. They're were precious days of her childhood and she couldn't have ever picked better companions. It was kind of lonely thinking of how much they had all grown.

"Your brother is a fine man," Horatio adjusted quickly, "but I can't help but notice that he sometimes tends to rub Hamlet the wrong way."

Ophelia sighed to herself that although Horatio was very smart, there were still some things that took awhile for him to understand. But now that he was finally catching on… "Theirs is a strange relationship," she agreed aloud. "One moment they're firm friends and the next Hamlet can't stand him and Laertes can't figure out what he did wrong." The last particularly bothered her. Laertes, though always quick to forgive the prince- who in the end always seemed to regret his actions- would always be so confused. Being the silent man he was, he was never quite sure how to ask for help. As such, she had been very touched when he began to seek her ought. "What did Laertes do now?" Probably nothing, but it would be interesting to hear what happened.

Horatio's voice answered in a way that told her he wasn't quite sure what happened either. "It was quite strange," he admitted. "I was actually standing with Laertes when it happened. We had been having a conversation," there was a slight pause here and both understood that a conversation with Laertes was usually one person doing most of the talking, "when Hamlet came striding into the room. He seemed to be in an awfully good mood. Remember that time he had fell that boar all by himself with a single arrow? Yes, just as proud."

Ophelia was picturing it rather vividly in her head. Hamlet striding in with the pride only a prince could master. Shoulders thrown back, head tilted to a certain angle so as to best display his fine tawny hair… yes, she was familiar with this picture. He would stride right up to his two friends, who would turn, curious to what could possibly make the prince look so happy.

Horatio continued, "He strode right up to Laertes and looked him straight in the eye. He opened his mouth to say something when he stopped and stared. A moment of confusion and then he looked irritated. He brought his right head level to Laertes's forehead and then back to his own. Hamlet did this quite a few times and each time he seemed to get angrier. Then, with a growl, he spun on his heel and stormed off."

"How strange…" Ophelia remarked aloud. Against her previous hopes, this didn't really explain anything. "I wonder what he supposed he was doing."

"My best guess is measuring their height," Horatio suggested. "You know how sensitive Hamlet is to the fact that Laertes has always been taller."

"But Laertes is older than Hamlet by quite a few months," Ophelia bit her lip. "It's only natural that he be taller."

"Tell that to Hamlet," Horatio sighed before laying back. He had taken off immediately after the prince, but Hamlet still showed no signs of stopping. How could that man have the same amount of energy for everything?

Ophelia remained silent

- - - - -

Hamlet came to a stop outside. Most of his anger had bled away with his brisk walk and he was left nursing his frustration. It was starting to feel like a seed of hopelessness in his gut, but he just threw it into the tighter knot of disappointment. He had hoped, really hoped, that today would be the day… He glared down at the ground. The silly man probably didn't even remember the promise…

_"Listen," young Hamlet commanded firmly. It was only the two of them left in the precious moments before they were to run off to their parents. Horatio and Ophelia had already run off ahead and Hamlet knew he should seize his chance. Laertes turned and actually looked him in the eye, but he forced himself to keep his resolve. "I need to tell you something."_

_"What is it?" Laertes asked slowly. It had become obvious early on in their friendship- or whatever this was- that Hamlet got rather frustrated if people didn't respond back. It was rather awkward actually talking back to someone that didn't look down on you and wanted complete obedience, but Laertes found that he didn't mind so much when it was Hamlet._

_"I can't tell you now," Hamlet announced, a bit sheepishly. Even he could hear how silly his words are and his face mirrored his annoyance. "Later."_

_This was rather vague for Laertes, who was rather used to his direct friend. "When is later?" he inquired hesitantly. Honestly, he wasn't too sure how he was supposed to respond to this._

_Hamlet gave a slight pout and grumbled. "I don't really know," he admitted grudgingly. "But it has to be later. I'm not ready yet." _

_"Ready for what?" Laertes blurted without thinking._

_"I told you!" Hamlet nearly cried, clearly getting frustrated. "I can't tell you yet! But…" He stared seriously up at the black-haired boy. "But when I'm taller than you, I'll tell you. I promise." And for extra measure, he swore it in his heart too. He would tell Laertes when the day came, would tell him all about it, about that strange feeling in his heart…_

_Laertes stared down slightly at the young boy and seeing his sincere determination, decided to respect it. "Alright," he agreed and told himself inwardly he would not mention it again. He was a very patient person and he would make himself wait until Hamlet was ready. However, there was one last question… "Why do you have to be taller than me?"_

_Hamlet spluttered, "B-because.. I have to be! I just have to alright?" He really didn't want to explain how it seemed right to his head and fitted his cowardly heart just fine. He had given this a lot of thought and this seemed to be the best solution!_

_The older boy just nodded, although he was no closer to an understanding than he was before. Then again, this _was_ Hamlet. To the prince's vast relief, Laertes turned and started making his way toward the castle. However, as though hearing Hamlet's previous thoughts, Laertes made one last comment, "You ponder strange things, young prince."_

_Hamlet again spluttered and chased after Laertes, who had placed both hands over his ears._

_Oh, just you wait Laertes! The day would come when he was finally taller, proof that his heart had matured and was ready to reveal…_

Only it seemed like that day would never come.

Hamlet glared down at the dirt some more and scuffed his boots.

- - - - -

Laertes finally showed up to his room and received a warm welcoming from not only his sister but Horatio of all people. Horatio made him think of Hamlet and suddenly he looked that much more tired. Ophelia was instantly drawn to his side and started making sympathetic noises.

"Oh, poor brother," she crooned. "I heard what happened with Hamlet." Inwardly, he noted his lack of surprise. Horatio was there after all and Horatio had a habit of acting for more than courteous reasons for his sister. Not that he really minded. There were worse men for Ophelia after all. And seeing him seating comfortably upon a couch made him think fondly of how happy it would make Ophelia to finally have a man that would be more than happy to let her dote on him. Laertes loved his sister dearly, but any fool could see that Horatio received her ministrations much more comfortably. "Are you alright, brother? You're not troubled are you?"

He shook his head, never one to make her worry. And he honestly was not troubled. "I am hale enough," he assured to her surprised look. "Hamlet's actions are not as random as they appear, though I must admit I am somewhat disappointed with the end result." He turned to the water basin so as to allow Ophelia and Horatio to exchange bemused glances. It wasn't, after all, his place to inform them.

For he had made a promise quite a few years ago to not mention the subject again until a certain young prince matured enough. He sometimes wondered if it would be strictly against the so-called rule to discuss with Hamlet that height was not necessarily an indicator of maturity. But if the boy didn't feel ready, then Laertes couldn't very well push him into it.

Hamlet had made it clear on that day that he wanted to make the first move. So, being the patient man he was, Laertes would wait silently for the day the prince would believe himself ready. He had a very sure feeling that on that day they would have a great deal to catch up on.

-END

_For Taylor,_

_For inspiring this by asking: "Who's taller- Laertes or Hamlet?" Sorry this took so long._


End file.
